


There was brief silence.

by DDDemosthenes_1986



Series: Batman One-Shots [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman Incorporated (Comics)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne Needs a Hug, Damian Wayne-centric, Gen, Headcanon, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, The League of Assassins (DCU), league - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-08 21:37:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18903127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DDDemosthenes_1986/pseuds/DDDemosthenes_1986
Summary: All robins are born to flyBut at some point, they’ll fallDamian just didn’t expect his fall to be so soon—A one-shot of Damian Wayne’s death as robin in Batman, Incorporated #8, told from his perspective





	There was brief silence.

"Laura, come on!"

 

A woman ran down the never ending hallways of the building that turned into utter chaos just hours before. The sounds of destruction rang behind her.

 

She dragged her daughter behind her, running as fast as they could. She breathes heavily looking frantically for a way out. She smiled slightly in relief and took in a shaky breath when she saw the main door.

 

They both took of towards the main door and released a breath of relief when they walked outside. Her motherly instincts finally calming down, looking at the outside of her office building never gave her such joy.

 

She started to take off towards the road, thinking of hailing a taxi, when she realized her child had dropped her hand. She looked back and saw her turned looking at the building behind them, that was being infiltrated by ninjas with bows and swords. Honestly whatever inspired her to move to this forsaken town needed to die.

 

She moved slowly towards the little girl, who stood transfixed, staring at the glass building and holding her teddy bear. Her small eyebrows scrunched together and her little mouth slightly open. Her mother stopped and looked around in confusion, "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

 

The little girl looked up, "Do you hear that?"

 

The woman tilted her head in further confusion, she looked around trying to hear what her daughter heard. However, she didn't. Her eyes widened, it was quiet, she couldn’t hear the defeating sound of battle and screams anymore.

 

All around them, it was silent.

 

Her head whipped around taking in the eerie situation, she felt goosebumps run up her arm and a tingle go up her spine. She gulped at her rising fear and took her daughter in his arms, "It's ok honey, let's go." 

 

As she ran, a thought swam around her mind, 'Something's wrong, something must've happened.' Something she didn't want to stay any longer to witness.

 

* * *

 

 

The Heretic ran and punched into the air, missing Damian by mere inches. He sidestepped and rolled, running from the fists raining down at him from his clone.

 

He scowled as he missed an arrow aimed at his side, that one had been closer than the others. He looked up and glared at the archers stationed around him. His body was getting sluggish from fighting for so long, he was making mistakes, something he hated with a passion.

 

The giant figure in front of him charged and bellowed a loud, "Brother, you are unworthy. Let me slaughter you and bring back honor to our family. Let me, brother. Have mercy!"

 

Their fighting continued, to any watching it seemed like a beautiful dance, murderous but just as entrancing as it looked, a waltz of death.

 

Damian could feel himself tiring, his broken bones grew in their ache, his adrenaline seemed to be running out, his lungs heaved with the strength of their breaths. He shuddered as his knees slightly gave way, the muscles too overworked to function. Heretic seemed to notice this too and took advantage, a kick to his side left his weak lungs gasping for breath and he could feel a rib give way.

 

He flew into the air and came down, skidding to a stop. This time he couldn't get up as fast and an arrow pierced his shoulder, another embedded itself into his calf and another into his thigh. He let out a small cry but shook of the pain, rolling away from Heretic's sword as it came towards where he lay.

 

In the league, he had been taught to fight when he could and retreat if death seemed inevitable, and as he looked out around the courtyard he saw that the his mother's men had blocked off all possible exits. He had no means of escape and there seemed to be only one ending to this story.

 

Another kick sent him flying to the right and was quickly followed by a punch in his shoulder, moving the arrow further down and making Damian cry out in pain. He coughed and felt the iron like taste of blood fill his mouth.

 

He had to get up but his arms shook with the weight of his body and he collapsed, only to be thrown against a wall by his opponent.

 

He rolled and his back met the wall, making him move in a sitting position against it, Damian groaned at the movement jostling his fractured ribs. He saw Heretic coming towards him and a cold feeling ran down his spine.

 

"Brother of mine, I am sorry but the Al Ghul name must have honor and you have tainted it with your disobedience, you have broken our oath. There is no other way."

 

He leapt from Heretic’s sword, shaking as it came down only centimeters away. He gasped for air as he looked up again at the form of his clone stalking slowly towards him.

 

Damian could feel it, the atmosphere, the gut feeling. The silence.

 

And Damian, for the first time in his life, was truly and horrifyingly scared.

 

He couldn't go on, his body had wore out, as he gasped for air. He knew that the end was near, and he was truly afraid.

 

He shuddered when Heretic finally stood before him, his gleaming sword poised for final judgedment. He begged, "Mother? Mother please."

 

"Mother please, call him off, please! Stop this!" He cried and begged but it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

 

If he weren't so spent and tired, he would've been utterly humiliated at having everyone around him hear his begs, Damian Al Ghul didn't beg, but it seemed that Damian Wayne did. And in that moment he huffed a small laugh at the thought, he finally saw why, why this was all happening to him, he was too weak now. His mother didn't want him, his father never trusted him.

 

Tainted.

 

He coughed, blood running down his chin, and watched as Heretic's sword came down in slow motion, and he thought of his life.

 

The hardships of the League, the intense love and wanting of approval he felt towards his mother. He remembered coming to Gotham, as untamed as a beast and with the heart of a jackal, he remembered his father's distrust and the hurt he felt.

 

He remembered the love and kindness Grayson had shown him, no one had ever loved him so unconditionally and stood happily beside him. It was something he'd always wanted to thank him for but will never have the opportunity to, it seemed.

 

Even as the sword of his judgement came down on him, ripping through his chest, Damian thought of all things that were and all things that could've been. And in that moment he was neither scared nor afraid, he only wept inside for the life that had now been lost.

 

He dropped to the concrete beneath him, the cheers of the league rang in his ears and vibrated in his head. Whether they were real or not, it didn't matter to him anymore.

 

Damian though of how amusing his life was, so miserable, and painful, and short, he had lived so long with pain he didn't even know what to do without it.

 

He felt the gash in his chest, a pain so excruciating his mind had to race to catch up to it. His blood, the very essence of his life, pooled quickly around him, and he could feel death come, with its slow walk and gleam of sentence. He and death had become acquainted over the years, but now it came for him, not his victims. He felt it's icy breath freezing his toes and finger.

 

He could feel his heart beating itself to exhaustion and his lungs racing to catch up, but despite all that he felt strangely at peace. Never in his life had he ever been felt such tranquility, and he was glad that he was able to experience it, even if only for a few seconds.

 

How sad he felt, such pity for him. A child who died alone. He felt satisfied anyways, he understood now, he had to sacrifice himself to save his family and the city his father loved above anything else, maybe even him. He felt so small now, so alone that he couldn't bear it.

 

And when Damian Al Ghul lay dying and Damian Wayne lay weeping, a thought came to his mind.

 

He wished Grayson could've hugged him one last time.

 

He smiled at that and breathed his last breathe.

 

All was silent.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Maybe I’ll make another chapter about Dick’s/everyone’s reactions to Damian dying???
> 
> Idk tell me what y’all think
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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